^*~*^*~*^A/N: Hello. This is my first Escaflowne fic. It's a songfic,
but don't let that turn you off of it. It's an AU, so expect some OOCness.
The rating is mostly for strong language, which is very unlike me. Mostly, none of my fanfiction has anything worse than "Crap". Oh well, what are you gonna do?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The series is quite obviously not mine. And the Song, is "Shut Your Mouth" by Garbage, so I don't own that either. And if you sue me for it, I will bite you! ::bares pointy fangs::
*= part of the song "= talking '= Hitomi's thoughts (If I had html, I would make them in italics, but I don't, so that bites)
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Shut Your Mouth
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* *Welcome-*
*We love you-*
*We hate you*
*We love you*
*We want you*
*We need you*
*We wish we were like you*
Another standard night. Perform, meet fans, go to some fancy cocktail party and hope to meet a few influental people for publicity.
"Here we go again," Hitomi sighed in front of her image in the mirror. She picked up a pallete of green eyeshadow and began brushing it on. She never liked wearing much makeup, but it was all a part of the act. She had to go appeasing everyone.
'Just do what they say.' She said to herself, clipping on a pair of earrings, 'You'll make it if you just cooperate. Be nice.' She let out another exasperated sigh and picked up a newspaper. In the music review section, she spotted a tiny clip about her performance.
Glimmering hope, she read it.
"Kanzaki Hitomi- one of the cutest new artists out there-..."
She smirked with a bit of meek pride, before reading on.
"Unfortunately, that's about her only good quality. Her concerts are hardly promising, with some average guitar playing, and downright predictable lyrics and vocals. As a rising star among so many corperate clones just like her, she is likely not to make it."
The words really hurt her, even if they were proffessional criticism. Couldn't this person see she was working hard? Couldn't they see she was even a person, not just a name?
Her eyes strayed downward to the author of this snippet,
"Emi Okuda."
"Wasn't that the critic who was raving about my act at that festival a few weeks back?" She asked out loud.
"What did she say?" the voice of her manager came from behind.
"Oh, Allen, hi."
"You left the dressing room door open, so I let myself in. Let me see that, please," He took the article and read it, his face sinking into a grim expression.
"I thought she liked me." Hitomi gazed at the floor.
"She did. It seems there isn't a good review in this paper, though." Allen folded the newspaper back up and ran his fingers through his golden hair.
"Damn sellout," she muttered, hugging her knee.
"That may be true. Just don't dare say anything like that around the press. They'll feed off it and make you seem like some sort of cruel brat."
Though she hated to admit it, he was right. It seemed he always knew what to do in reaction to this kind of bad publicity. When it seemed the whole world was giving her a bad rap.
*They say you're a saint*
*You're a whore*
*You're a sinner*
*That he had you*
*Made you*
*Can't live without you*
True, it was Allen who helped her handle things like this, but it certainly wasn't him that made her what she was. She knew that well. She was the one who got herself this far. Even when she had just been living in her van with nothing but her guitar and the clothes on her back, she kept writing her music and trying to be someone.
The critics all said that her manager made her talent; that it was something produced by a label for generating money. They couldn't have been more wrong. To her, Allen just showed her how things went on in the industry. The music was something purely out of herself.
She brushed off the bad review and put her thoughts to another place. She thought about her fans. They were there at the concert to see her. And not because somebody told them to, it was because they too saw something special in her music. They too saw that this could mean something.
She picked up her guitar and tuned the strings for a few minutes until she was satisfied with the sound it made. She closed her eyes, strumming a chord that soothed her. Yes, this was what she loved; to make music, and to know that it helped people; that it had a point.
"Hitomi-san." her costume designer called her from her thoughts.
"Hai?"
"I have your outfit ready." The woman brought in a few hangers with clothing on them.
"Thank you. Leave them there and I'll be out in a minute."
"Alright."
Hitomi set out her clothes. It seemed the skirts kept getting shorter and shorter.
"Why can't I pick out my own clothes?" She asked to nobody in particular, getting on the pleated red mini-skirt and white tube top.
"I'd be so much more comfortable up there in jeans and a polo shirt." She said, strapping on her gigantic platform shoes.
'It sells music,' Allens voice echoed in her head.
"It sells my music. Why do I want it to sell then? If they're not buying my songs, they're buying my cleavage."
Backstage, a couple of contest winning fans were gathering to meet their favorite singer, Hitomi Kanzaki. Hitomi smiled as she greeted the preteen girls, who gushed happily about her music and how much it inspired them.
"I'm glad I have fans like you who like the music for what it is." She said, shaking their hands.
Some of the other guests were in another group; a couple of maybe twenty year old guys who were looking and acting obnoxious as ever. One of them had a camcorder that they were goofing off with and making off color jokes to eachother.
She groaned as she tried to act pleasant with them and continue smiling.
"It's for my image. It's for my image," she repeated to herself with clenched teeth.
"Hey," The guy with the camera grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around. Her zen calmness was wearing thin...
"Would you flash the camera?"
...last... straw!
The rest of the group started hooting and chanting.
"Come on! Show us those tits!" They yelled.
She couldn't take it anymore.
"Sick little perv!" She slapped the film enthusiast right across the face, "Go to hell!" She punctuated this last statement with the raising of her middle finger, and stormed away.
Footsteps ran after her in the hallway. She knew it was Allen.
*Would you confess-*
*If we asked that you nurture the urge*
*To declare that it's time*
*To settle down with a man of your own*
*You want*
*A baby*
*A family*
*A piece of security...*
"Hitomi, what was that for?" He pulled off his sunglasses and stared into her eyes, angry as ever.
"You know damn well what that was for!" She stomped her foot on the ground.
"And you know that no matter how provoked you never have outbursts like that. It's bad for publicity." He continued raving.
"And what do you want me to do; apologize?"
"That's exactly what I want you to do!"
"Never!" She folded her arms and turned around, "I can not give my apology to those undeserving miserable excuses for humans."
"You can, and you will. They have the tape and they can edit it. You know how the media marionettes things like that."
"So how will my apology help?"
"We make a deal with them and get the tape."
"I won't do it."
"Yes you will. You have a contract."
She turned back to him and brushed back her short sandy hair.
"Fine. I'll apologize and keep my mouth shut." She sighed.
"Good girl." He said, "That's the way to play it."
*Shut your mouth*
*Try not to panic*
*Just shut your mouth*
*If you can do it*
She pursed her lip and walked back. The pervert now had a big red welt on his cheek. Ha! Served the bastard right!
"Miss Kanzaki apologizes for her outburst, and we must ask you that you don't take the issue to press," Allen said, an ultimate calm in his voice.
After a bit of discussion, it was Hitomi's turn to do her part. Pasting a giant smile on her face, she went to tell her lie.
"G-Gomen nasai." She muttered as sweetly as she could. It made her cringe to fake guilt over something she'd done that couldn't have been more justified if she put it in the constitution.
"It's alright." he muttered, "Hey, can I have a hug, then?"
She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. Shooting a glance back at Allen, he only gave her a nod. Sucking in her breath, she tried not to look like she was in pain as she hugged her "fan". She certainly wasn't going to let them have the last laugh. Leaning forward she hissed ever so quietly into his ear,
"Quite personally, fuck you."
Feeling she'd done enough, she turned around and plastered a big smile on her face. She waved sweetly to the group and went to warm up backstage.
"Roxy's still stuck at the airport." Allen said, clicking his cell phone shut, "We're going to need a backup drummer."
"Well who's that lucky person gonna be?" Hitomi asked, strapping her guitar over her shoulder.
"We found this guy a few weeks back. You never met him, but he was practicing with Roxy for a while. He'll do the job for tonight."
"It's a guy?"
"Is that a problem?"
"No, of course not."
The opening acts were drawing to a close, and Hitomi rocked back and forth waiting to go on. As she turned, her eye quickly caught something- somebody.
It was a man- a boy really. He had dark raven hair and deep cocoa brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to hold something- eyes that kept a secret. That sounded like a song... She made a mental note of it, just before she lost sight of him.
The lights went up as they opened with her hit song, "On Your Wings". Though most people never knew it, that song was inspired by her best friend who'd taken her in after she ran away from home, away from her abusive mother. It was often hard to play that song without bursting into tears right up on stage. There was so much hidden there; people rarely ever guessed.
She barely noticed that the drummer was new. He played just as well as Roxy had, and that was certainly saying something. Of course she never got a chance to have a look at him, but they would meet eventually.
She finished the show with the same energy and passion as she did every night. The energy was thick in the air; you could feel it.
"See, this is what I do this for. It's all for you, guys." She said into the microphone to a cheering audience. Up here, it didn't matter what the critics said. It was just the music.
"Come on, Hitomi." Allen lead her around through the throng of reporters.
"Where are we going tonight?"
"Party at the central hotel. It's very important that you go there tonight. Mr. Dryden will be there."
"The president of the label?"
"Yes. It's very important that you make it there to meet him, as one of the biggest rising albums."
"I look forward to it. I should probably get to my dressing room to change now." Hitomi said, eyeing the large group of reporters.
They were all there to dig up anything about the so-called "Scandal" she was involved in, compliments of a tabloid. It never even specified what the scandal was, thanks to the creative reporters, but now they were all looking for the slightest whiff of something wrong in order to embroider it for press.
"Just make sure you don't say anything. Got that? No matter what they accuse you of, don't say a thing."
*Shut your mouth*
*Try not to panic*
*Just shut your mouth*
*If you can do it*
*Just shut your mouth!*
Miraculously, the ravenous media was passed by without a glitch, and Hitomi relaxed in the safety of her dressing room. Only ten minutes to get ready; better get started.
With her pink dress and pearls on, she picked up her powder and looked in the mirror again. It felt nice to be pretty for once. But somehow, it felt rather pointless, and a little silly.
What difference did it make that she looked perfect for the boss? Would it really solve world hunger or help research diseases? No. Would it really help other kids who grew up just like her? Whether or not she had her pearl necklace on wouldn't do anything for a young girl who was going to sleep hungry and bruised tonight.
"Just keep your head up high, darling," She spoke to herself, trying to calm down, "You made it this far and others will follow."
A knock came from the door.
"Come in." She said, getting up and picking up her scarf.
"Are you all ready to go?" Allen asked.
"Hai. I just need to get my shoes on." She strapped on her stilleto heels and wrapped the scarf around her shoulders.
"You look fabulous," Allen said, being the all-time master of syrupy flattery. Hitomi couldn't help but smile and roll her eyes and walked alongside him to the limousine.
All the way to the hotel, she looked out the window in silence, wondering what she had become. If Allen hadn't been busy making appointments on his cell phone, he just might have seen her cry.
'Keep your head high...' she took a deep breath and reminded herself, 'You must be doing something right.'
She put her false smile on to make her entrance to the party, just as she did every time. She didn't mind all the attention, or the chance to meet so many people, yet, she never felt like she was a part of them. Before she became a musician, she always saw the whole music industry as one big living thing. Now she could tell it was many people; all scattered and backstabbing. She felt like she was only a little welcome. Like she was just a guest.
*What's your opinion*
*Of the dire situation?*
*In our land here*
*Our guest here*
*Of course you'll be nice here*
Click, click, click went her heels, up the sidewalk and to the doors. She gave a greeting smile to everyone she passed by, and they gave one back.
Just as she turned to ask Allen a question about the party, she stumbled over her own foot.
'Damn heels!' was the first thought to race through her brain as she prapared for a full ground collision. Surprisingly, she landed on something, no... she was caught.
"Easy, there." the voice that belonged to the hands that were holding her said. She gathered he balance, leaning against the one who caught her and laughed it off.
"Sorry about that," She brushed the dust from herself.
"No problem," the kind voice replied. She looked up and saw a pair of shimmering eyes. The boy from backstage.
"I- I'm Hitomi," She said, offering her hand.
"Ah, I see you met our new drummer," Allen said, "Hitomi, this is Van. He certainly is something."
"Hi," Van said, shaking Hitomi's hand firmly, "I guess we were never formally introduced," He took a breath and ran his fingers back through his untamed black hair. Something about him just then made Hitomi go weak in the knees.
"Ah, you were very good. I could hardly tell that you weren't Roxy." Hitomi said, trying to make conversation that wasn't completely akward.
"Well, it's my job. I practice alot, and I learn how to play by ear." He began walking with them inside. As he continued talking, she took a moment to study him.
He was young looking and gangly- probably no older than eighteen. He seemed to have an air about him, even though he was not what she would venture to say- devastatingly handsome. He'd traded in his street clothes for a sharp looking suit like the rest of the men there were wearing, but he wore it far looser, and ditched the tie. A definite rock star type.
The party went as Hitomi would have expected it. Rather stiff and still unwelcoming. Occasionally, she laughed when Van was around, seeing as he turned out to be a very funny guy. Watching Van made her feel like a sheepish junior high student with a crush, but still, she kept on watching him. Once she even swore she saw him wink at her, making her cheeks tint pink.
"So anyway, I don't know what he was thinking..."
'How long can this woman go on?' Hitomi thought to herself, politely feigning interest in the conversation she was caught up in. She supressed her yawn and wondered how the rest of these people were listening so intently to this woman's babbling.
She put up with it for a few minutes, through all the boring ramblings and bad jokes, until she just prayed to be hit by lightning or something.
"So, how's that new job coming? With your raise and all?" A couple of men were trying to switch subjects.
"It's alright, besides all the damn tax raises."
"Oh, I know. I swear the government is trying to steal us blind."
She sparked a slight interest in this conversation. At least there was some oppourtunity for the duscussion to harbor intelligence.
"Yes but didn't the plan go that the new tax raise would got to benefit good causes?" She put her two cents in the conversation.
"Come again?"
"The mayor says he plans to put a great deal of the new tax money to pressing issues such as homelesness and domestic abuse. The increase is really a benefit for all of us. Our children will be able to get more school funding and such."
The men both gave rather hollow stares and continued talking amongst themselves.
'Hitomi-chan no baka. There you go with that mouth of yours again. Just keep it shut for once!' she excused herself from the group, practically unnoticed, and got herself a glass of champagne.
"Things like that really don't matter around here, do they?" She muttered to herself, sitting at an empty table.
*How do you feel-*
*About God and religion?*
*Are you*
*Good people*
*Bad people*
*Guess-it-dosen't-matter people?*
Sipping her drink, she tried to remain pleasant, hoping the alchohol would help it along a bit. Then, along came who else but Sir Allen and a new big-shot to meet?
"Hitomi, this is Mr. Dryden, he's the presiden't of this record label."
"Oh, yes I've heard so much about you." Hitomi said, shaking his hand.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm very pleased with how your new album's been doing. I'm sure you're very proud."
"Yes, yes I am. I'm rather shocked actually. I didn't think I would make it this far."
"Nonsense. You're a very talented performer. We're very proud to have you with us."
'So why don't you just take your picture with me and get the publicity stunt over with?'
"Thank you, sir. It's an honor to be here."
'Liar.'
"I'm so sorry. If I may, this is my fiancee, Millerna." Dryden introduced Hitomi to the hot blonde on his arm.
'Well, what a lovely ornament you have there,'
"Pleased to meet you."
"No, the pleasure's all mine." Millerna smiled, shaking Hitomi's hand, "You know, I have a niece who just loves your music. She would die if she heard I had met you."
'No shit, why don't you just buy me at the store and give me to her for Christmas?' Hitomi choked back her thoughts. They seemed to be turning far too nasty. Perhaps the champagne was a bad idea.
"Well it's great to hear that I have so many fans."
"I know a great deal of people who would just love to meet you. Perhaps you would care to come attend a party of ours sometime soon?"
*Your place, my place*
*Make her bring that famous face*
*You got some, You want some*
*You wanna let me give you some*
'No way in hell am I going to be a show piece for some rich guy's party!'
"That might work out. But you know, I do have a busy schedule what with the tour and all..."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure we can work something out."
'Shit.'
"Well, we have to go. It was nice meeting you,"
"You too."
"We'll be seeing you around, I suppose,"
"Goodbye!"
Dryden and his vanity item left to mingle some more, and Hitomi sunk back into her chair, idly swirling the contents of her glass.
"Does this mean I have to go to social events with these people?"
"Honestly, Hitomi. You do it all the time. This time shouldn't be any different."
"It could just be one time too many," she said before finally downing the last of the warm champagne.
"Fine. If you can get me drunk enough to agree some night, I'll go." Allen chuckled and left Hitomi alone to her thoughts.
"Did you know that Kanzaki Hitomi is here tonight?"
"Well that's certainly something new."
Great. People were talking about her from only a few feet away. Apparently they never even checked to see if she was still there.
"Yes, she is rather popular nowadays."
"Well, amongst the teens I can understand. Most kids these days couldn't tell good music if it hit them in the face."
'Ouch.'
"Well, I'd agree, it certainly isn't my cup of tea. But, if the company wants to continue manufacturing these fake pop-stars, then they can go right ahead."
"Of course. Anything to make money is good for them."
'That's all I am to them, aren't I?'
*We know your music*
*But of course we'd never buy it*
*It's too fake, man*
*Right, man*
*(We don't give a fucking damn!)*
She set down her champagne glass and got up to find the door as quickly as possible. Some air would be really good.
'God, Hitomi, don't cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these people.' She clenched her fist to fight back the tears.
Outside the door, she swiftly sat on the cold steps. She didn't care about getting her dress dirty; she just needed to be alone. She sobbed and moaned, her makeup starting to run.
"Just what I needed," she moped, wiping her eye with one finger.
"You can use my sleeve if you want. It's black anyway, so nobody will tell the difference."
"Van. What are you doing out here?" she sniffed, looking up.
"I need a breather from all that hot air." He said, extending his arm so she could wipe her eyes.
"I thought you were having a good time in there." She blotted her tears and let him have his arm back.
"Well, I had you fooled then." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky, "I mean, I like being with some people, but in general, humans are semi-retarded." Hitomi made a short laugh at this observation.
"I don't suppose it's that, so much as they choose not to see things."
Van nodded and looked back at Hitomi.
"I heard what they were saying about you." He said, nonchalantly.
"Yeah, that I'm a hopeless musician. That I'm nothing but a product. My songs mean nothing."
"Bullshit." He said, unhesitantly, without even averting his gaze, "I saw you play. Hell, I played with you. I learned your songs by heart, and I know. They touch people, Hitomi."
Hitomi remained silent, her hands on her knees.
"It's a sick sick game," she finally said, never breaking her stare at the concrete steps, "It's a game nobody can win, but you can survive it by shutting up."
A long silence followed, until Van spoke,
"Even though I wish it wasn't, I guess that's all true. I just don't see why it had to wind up like this. Your life ends up as a crazy freak show. A three ring circus."
"Yep. A spectator sport. A game you can't win..."
*Let me hear you play it smart, girl*
*Win the game, love*
*Give them what they want*
*What they wanna see, and you could be a big star*
*You could go far,*
*Make a landmark...*
"Well, I'm glad I finally met somebody smart enough to get the truth about this crazy mess." Van folded his hands behind his head.
"So am I." Hitomi smiled.
"Hitomi!" Allen's voice.
"Not again," She pressed her finger along her eyelid to wipe away any of the evidence that she had been crying,
"Hai?"
"They're taking a picture for the magazine. We need you now."
She picked herself up from her seated position, and turned to Van,
"I have to go. Will I see you again?"
"I might hang around with you guys a while longer." He shrugged.
"Then I'll look forward to meeting you backstage."
She hurried up the stairs back inside the ball room to rejoin the group. She was ready to play the game once more at least.
*What have you been reading, you smart girl?*
*Win the game, love*
*Give them what they want*
*What they wanna see*
*You could be a big star*
* You could go far*
*Make a landmark*
*Make a... shitload*
"Guess who?" A pair of hands covered Hitomi's eyes. She laughed playfully, and tried to squirm away.
"Van!"
"Can't get anything past you, now can I?" He removed his hands and spun around her to look her in the eye.
"I missed you!" She jumped forward and hugged him, almost knocking him down in the process.
"Whoa. You'd think I've been gone for years or something." He swayed to balance himself and lightly hugged her back.
"It gets boring around here without you." She slung her arm around his shoulder and walked with him down the hallway.
"So how have you been?" She asked, her eyes beaming.
"I've been faring pretty well. I think I may have finally hooked up with a band."
"That's great! I know how long you've been waiting for a chance like this." She ear to ear looking into his face, which she would have been content doing all day long.
She had been rather shocked when Van told her that he'd never played with a band for more than three weeks. He was very good at music, and not only with the drums, but he could really tear up an electric guitar. He still got by just making backup roles with other bands; enough to pay the rent.
"Yeah. I think they really liked me. It's just a small garage band from Okoyama, but they're really good. Likely to make it far."
Hitomi nodded and sat down on the sofa that was in the lounge, picking up a bottle of water.
"So, what about you? How is the tour going?" Van asked.
"Same old stuff. I'm not complaining, though. I'm really getting used to it all."
"Did you ask Allen about that charity thing you were planning?"
Immediately a downtrodden look came upon her face.
"He- he said people weren't interested in that kind of stuff. That if I wanted publicity, I should marry an actor or something like that instead."
"Who said anything about publicity?"
"That's what I said. I just wanted to make that shelter for runaways like I always dreamed of."
"Well, it's your money, isn't it?"
"Yeah... I guess. So-?"
"So forget about Allen, and go do it. I really think you're too passive in these things, Hitomi."
"But..."
"But nothing. You need to stand up for yourself. I know you, Hitomi, and you aren't the kind of pushover that you seem to act like sometimes. You just need confidence."
"That's easy for you to say. You don't have a P.R to worry about."
"Do you really want to be a puppet behind your P.R? No. You're strong. You have nerves of steel. You can do what you want. And screw what anyone else wants to say."
"I guess." She said, a bit of hope illuminationg her face.
"And if you really want publicity, we could get married for 30 days and let the tabloids just feed off it." He said this last remark in playful sarcasm, and Hitomi giggled, blushing just slightly.
"Or better, yet: marry Allen. Think of the headlines that one will make; 'Kanzaki Marries Manager'!"
"Sure, like that'll ever happen!" She laughed out, splashing Van with her water bottle.
"Hey, no fair!" He yelled, jumping back, "I'm defenseless!"
"Yeah, well you asked for it." She said, proceeding to dump more water on him.
'That's so strange, about that marriage comment. I know he was joking, but still... he never thought of me as more than just a friend before...'
Van reached into the cooler and pulled out a can of Coke, which he began shaking, with a devilish grin on his face.
"You wouldn't dare," She gasped, backing away.
"Oh, yes I would," He advanced toward her, his finger set threateningly on the pull tab.
"If you do, I'll-"
Fsssshhhhht!!!
The bubbly foam sprayed all over her, and on Van as well, making Hitomi screech with laughter.
"You- You bastard!" She yelled, quickly grabbing for another can, shaking it in her slippery hand. Van quickly turned on his heel to run.
"Oh, no you don't!" She called, "I'm gonna make you pay for that one!" As he dashed for the door, she jumped right ahead of him and slammed it shut.
"I'm not letting you get away that easily." She pinned him against the wall, smiling mischieviously.
Fsssshhht!!!
Yet another soda bomb was unleashed, this time on Van's head, slicking down his mop of hair, satisfyingly enough for Hitomi, at least.
Van seemed like he would begin to hyperventilate from all his laughter, as he leaned against the wall and sunk back, the contageous giggles spreading to Hitomi as he pulled her down.
Their hilarity attack continued for the next few minutes, as they reduced themslves to babbling idiots with the chuckles that kept coming. Finally, they were able to reach some sort of coherent phrases.
"Y- you look terrible!" Hitomi managed between gasps.
"I don't think you should be talking." Van said, giving her a shove.
"You're paying for the dry cleaning."
"What? You started it with your little water attack."
"But you- provoked me."
"Did not. You committed the crime out of cold blood."
"Well, cold blood or not, we're all sticky now." She said, starting to lick foam off her hand jokingly.
"Hey, not a bad idea." Van remarked, and copied her, licking his own arm.
"Ha ha! You are so wierd, Van."
In response, he quickly licked her cheek, cleaning off a fleck of foam.
"Mmmm, bubbly fresh!" He commented. She quickly looked at him in shock.
'Did he really-... Maybe he was just being playful. I mean, he couldn't really, could he?' Hitomi thought. There was only one way to find out.
"I think you have some there." She pointed to a spot on his face.
"Where?" He looked downward.
"Right, there." She leaned forward and kissed him tentatively. To her surprise he didn't shy away or stop her, but in fact, he seemed to be kissing her back.
Gently, she pulled away, smiling at him contently. Of course, as with all great things, this moment couldn't last.
"Hitomi?" Allen quickly opened the door and walked in, "Hitomi, you need to do that interview with the teen magazine in a half an hour." He took a second to look at her,
"You're a mess. what happened?" He then looked at Van, and of course, figured a few things out by himself.
"You should get yourself cleaned up," Van said, "I'll pick up in here." He winked and got up.
As Hitomi cleaned up and got ready for the interview, her thoughts dwelled on Van. She had only known him for six months and yet felt she grew up with him.
Most importantly, she knew what she learned from him. He gave her strength to say what she needed to, without caring what others thought. No matter what the world said; or what they attacked about her, she was going to stay steadfast.
*And the world spins by with everybody moanin'*
*Pissin' and bitchin'*
*And everyone is shittin'-*
*On their friends*
*On their love*
*On their oaths*
*On their honor*
*On their graves*
*On their mouths*
*And their words say nothin'*
"Allen," She said, clicking open her cell phone and smirking with a newfound confidence, "I'm going to be making a donation."
*******
~A/N: So, how did you like that? Man, this was intended to be pure angst, but look at all that fluff! Somehow, I am twistedly split between my angst and my fluff. Darn it. Anyways, whatever you feel about it, please click there on that review button and tell me.
~Whether it's a long thorough review, a short one-liner, or an incoherent "Booga!", just submit it there. (Although the third option is not quite so favored). Ciao, and Ja ne!
~If you like my songfics, and you like Evanescence, then you may look forward to my up and coming angst fics for Rurouni Kenshin.
Now Clicky on the button!
The rating is mostly for strong language, which is very unlike me. Mostly, none of my fanfiction has anything worse than "Crap". Oh well, what are you gonna do?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The series is quite obviously not mine. And the Song, is "Shut Your Mouth" by Garbage, so I don't own that either. And if you sue me for it, I will bite you! ::bares pointy fangs::
*= part of the song "= talking '= Hitomi's thoughts (If I had html, I would make them in italics, but I don't, so that bites)
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Shut Your Mouth
*
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* *Welcome-*
*We love you-*
*We hate you*
*We love you*
*We want you*
*We need you*
*We wish we were like you*
Another standard night. Perform, meet fans, go to some fancy cocktail party and hope to meet a few influental people for publicity.
"Here we go again," Hitomi sighed in front of her image in the mirror. She picked up a pallete of green eyeshadow and began brushing it on. She never liked wearing much makeup, but it was all a part of the act. She had to go appeasing everyone.
'Just do what they say.' She said to herself, clipping on a pair of earrings, 'You'll make it if you just cooperate. Be nice.' She let out another exasperated sigh and picked up a newspaper. In the music review section, she spotted a tiny clip about her performance.
Glimmering hope, she read it.
"Kanzaki Hitomi- one of the cutest new artists out there-..."
She smirked with a bit of meek pride, before reading on.
"Unfortunately, that's about her only good quality. Her concerts are hardly promising, with some average guitar playing, and downright predictable lyrics and vocals. As a rising star among so many corperate clones just like her, she is likely not to make it."
The words really hurt her, even if they were proffessional criticism. Couldn't this person see she was working hard? Couldn't they see she was even a person, not just a name?
Her eyes strayed downward to the author of this snippet,
"Emi Okuda."
"Wasn't that the critic who was raving about my act at that festival a few weeks back?" She asked out loud.
"What did she say?" the voice of her manager came from behind.
"Oh, Allen, hi."
"You left the dressing room door open, so I let myself in. Let me see that, please," He took the article and read it, his face sinking into a grim expression.
"I thought she liked me." Hitomi gazed at the floor.
"She did. It seems there isn't a good review in this paper, though." Allen folded the newspaper back up and ran his fingers through his golden hair.
"Damn sellout," she muttered, hugging her knee.
"That may be true. Just don't dare say anything like that around the press. They'll feed off it and make you seem like some sort of cruel brat."
Though she hated to admit it, he was right. It seemed he always knew what to do in reaction to this kind of bad publicity. When it seemed the whole world was giving her a bad rap.
*They say you're a saint*
*You're a whore*
*You're a sinner*
*That he had you*
*Made you*
*Can't live without you*
True, it was Allen who helped her handle things like this, but it certainly wasn't him that made her what she was. She knew that well. She was the one who got herself this far. Even when she had just been living in her van with nothing but her guitar and the clothes on her back, she kept writing her music and trying to be someone.
The critics all said that her manager made her talent; that it was something produced by a label for generating money. They couldn't have been more wrong. To her, Allen just showed her how things went on in the industry. The music was something purely out of herself.
She brushed off the bad review and put her thoughts to another place. She thought about her fans. They were there at the concert to see her. And not because somebody told them to, it was because they too saw something special in her music. They too saw that this could mean something.
She picked up her guitar and tuned the strings for a few minutes until she was satisfied with the sound it made. She closed her eyes, strumming a chord that soothed her. Yes, this was what she loved; to make music, and to know that it helped people; that it had a point.
"Hitomi-san." her costume designer called her from her thoughts.
"Hai?"
"I have your outfit ready." The woman brought in a few hangers with clothing on them.
"Thank you. Leave them there and I'll be out in a minute."
"Alright."
Hitomi set out her clothes. It seemed the skirts kept getting shorter and shorter.
"Why can't I pick out my own clothes?" She asked to nobody in particular, getting on the pleated red mini-skirt and white tube top.
"I'd be so much more comfortable up there in jeans and a polo shirt." She said, strapping on her gigantic platform shoes.
'It sells music,' Allens voice echoed in her head.
"It sells my music. Why do I want it to sell then? If they're not buying my songs, they're buying my cleavage."
Backstage, a couple of contest winning fans were gathering to meet their favorite singer, Hitomi Kanzaki. Hitomi smiled as she greeted the preteen girls, who gushed happily about her music and how much it inspired them.
"I'm glad I have fans like you who like the music for what it is." She said, shaking their hands.
Some of the other guests were in another group; a couple of maybe twenty year old guys who were looking and acting obnoxious as ever. One of them had a camcorder that they were goofing off with and making off color jokes to eachother.
She groaned as she tried to act pleasant with them and continue smiling.
"It's for my image. It's for my image," she repeated to herself with clenched teeth.
"Hey," The guy with the camera grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around. Her zen calmness was wearing thin...
"Would you flash the camera?"
...last... straw!
The rest of the group started hooting and chanting.
"Come on! Show us those tits!" They yelled.
She couldn't take it anymore.
"Sick little perv!" She slapped the film enthusiast right across the face, "Go to hell!" She punctuated this last statement with the raising of her middle finger, and stormed away.
Footsteps ran after her in the hallway. She knew it was Allen.
*Would you confess-*
*If we asked that you nurture the urge*
*To declare that it's time*
*To settle down with a man of your own*
*You want*
*A baby*
*A family*
*A piece of security...*
"Hitomi, what was that for?" He pulled off his sunglasses and stared into her eyes, angry as ever.
"You know damn well what that was for!" She stomped her foot on the ground.
"And you know that no matter how provoked you never have outbursts like that. It's bad for publicity." He continued raving.
"And what do you want me to do; apologize?"
"That's exactly what I want you to do!"
"Never!" She folded her arms and turned around, "I can not give my apology to those undeserving miserable excuses for humans."
"You can, and you will. They have the tape and they can edit it. You know how the media marionettes things like that."
"So how will my apology help?"
"We make a deal with them and get the tape."
"I won't do it."
"Yes you will. You have a contract."
She turned back to him and brushed back her short sandy hair.
"Fine. I'll apologize and keep my mouth shut." She sighed.
"Good girl." He said, "That's the way to play it."
*Shut your mouth*
*Try not to panic*
*Just shut your mouth*
*If you can do it*
She pursed her lip and walked back. The pervert now had a big red welt on his cheek. Ha! Served the bastard right!
"Miss Kanzaki apologizes for her outburst, and we must ask you that you don't take the issue to press," Allen said, an ultimate calm in his voice.
After a bit of discussion, it was Hitomi's turn to do her part. Pasting a giant smile on her face, she went to tell her lie.
"G-Gomen nasai." She muttered as sweetly as she could. It made her cringe to fake guilt over something she'd done that couldn't have been more justified if she put it in the constitution.
"It's alright." he muttered, "Hey, can I have a hug, then?"
She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. Shooting a glance back at Allen, he only gave her a nod. Sucking in her breath, she tried not to look like she was in pain as she hugged her "fan". She certainly wasn't going to let them have the last laugh. Leaning forward she hissed ever so quietly into his ear,
"Quite personally, fuck you."
Feeling she'd done enough, she turned around and plastered a big smile on her face. She waved sweetly to the group and went to warm up backstage.
"Roxy's still stuck at the airport." Allen said, clicking his cell phone shut, "We're going to need a backup drummer."
"Well who's that lucky person gonna be?" Hitomi asked, strapping her guitar over her shoulder.
"We found this guy a few weeks back. You never met him, but he was practicing with Roxy for a while. He'll do the job for tonight."
"It's a guy?"
"Is that a problem?"
"No, of course not."
The opening acts were drawing to a close, and Hitomi rocked back and forth waiting to go on. As she turned, her eye quickly caught something- somebody.
It was a man- a boy really. He had dark raven hair and deep cocoa brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to hold something- eyes that kept a secret. That sounded like a song... She made a mental note of it, just before she lost sight of him.
The lights went up as they opened with her hit song, "On Your Wings". Though most people never knew it, that song was inspired by her best friend who'd taken her in after she ran away from home, away from her abusive mother. It was often hard to play that song without bursting into tears right up on stage. There was so much hidden there; people rarely ever guessed.
She barely noticed that the drummer was new. He played just as well as Roxy had, and that was certainly saying something. Of course she never got a chance to have a look at him, but they would meet eventually.
She finished the show with the same energy and passion as she did every night. The energy was thick in the air; you could feel it.
"See, this is what I do this for. It's all for you, guys." She said into the microphone to a cheering audience. Up here, it didn't matter what the critics said. It was just the music.
"Come on, Hitomi." Allen lead her around through the throng of reporters.
"Where are we going tonight?"
"Party at the central hotel. It's very important that you go there tonight. Mr. Dryden will be there."
"The president of the label?"
"Yes. It's very important that you make it there to meet him, as one of the biggest rising albums."
"I look forward to it. I should probably get to my dressing room to change now." Hitomi said, eyeing the large group of reporters.
They were all there to dig up anything about the so-called "Scandal" she was involved in, compliments of a tabloid. It never even specified what the scandal was, thanks to the creative reporters, but now they were all looking for the slightest whiff of something wrong in order to embroider it for press.
"Just make sure you don't say anything. Got that? No matter what they accuse you of, don't say a thing."
*Shut your mouth*
*Try not to panic*
*Just shut your mouth*
*If you can do it*
*Just shut your mouth!*
Miraculously, the ravenous media was passed by without a glitch, and Hitomi relaxed in the safety of her dressing room. Only ten minutes to get ready; better get started.
With her pink dress and pearls on, she picked up her powder and looked in the mirror again. It felt nice to be pretty for once. But somehow, it felt rather pointless, and a little silly.
What difference did it make that she looked perfect for the boss? Would it really solve world hunger or help research diseases? No. Would it really help other kids who grew up just like her? Whether or not she had her pearl necklace on wouldn't do anything for a young girl who was going to sleep hungry and bruised tonight.
"Just keep your head up high, darling," She spoke to herself, trying to calm down, "You made it this far and others will follow."
A knock came from the door.
"Come in." She said, getting up and picking up her scarf.
"Are you all ready to go?" Allen asked.
"Hai. I just need to get my shoes on." She strapped on her stilleto heels and wrapped the scarf around her shoulders.
"You look fabulous," Allen said, being the all-time master of syrupy flattery. Hitomi couldn't help but smile and roll her eyes and walked alongside him to the limousine.
All the way to the hotel, she looked out the window in silence, wondering what she had become. If Allen hadn't been busy making appointments on his cell phone, he just might have seen her cry.
'Keep your head high...' she took a deep breath and reminded herself, 'You must be doing something right.'
She put her false smile on to make her entrance to the party, just as she did every time. She didn't mind all the attention, or the chance to meet so many people, yet, she never felt like she was a part of them. Before she became a musician, she always saw the whole music industry as one big living thing. Now she could tell it was many people; all scattered and backstabbing. She felt like she was only a little welcome. Like she was just a guest.
*What's your opinion*
*Of the dire situation?*
*In our land here*
*Our guest here*
*Of course you'll be nice here*
Click, click, click went her heels, up the sidewalk and to the doors. She gave a greeting smile to everyone she passed by, and they gave one back.
Just as she turned to ask Allen a question about the party, she stumbled over her own foot.
'Damn heels!' was the first thought to race through her brain as she prapared for a full ground collision. Surprisingly, she landed on something, no... she was caught.
"Easy, there." the voice that belonged to the hands that were holding her said. She gathered he balance, leaning against the one who caught her and laughed it off.
"Sorry about that," She brushed the dust from herself.
"No problem," the kind voice replied. She looked up and saw a pair of shimmering eyes. The boy from backstage.
"I- I'm Hitomi," She said, offering her hand.
"Ah, I see you met our new drummer," Allen said, "Hitomi, this is Van. He certainly is something."
"Hi," Van said, shaking Hitomi's hand firmly, "I guess we were never formally introduced," He took a breath and ran his fingers back through his untamed black hair. Something about him just then made Hitomi go weak in the knees.
"Ah, you were very good. I could hardly tell that you weren't Roxy." Hitomi said, trying to make conversation that wasn't completely akward.
"Well, it's my job. I practice alot, and I learn how to play by ear." He began walking with them inside. As he continued talking, she took a moment to study him.
He was young looking and gangly- probably no older than eighteen. He seemed to have an air about him, even though he was not what she would venture to say- devastatingly handsome. He'd traded in his street clothes for a sharp looking suit like the rest of the men there were wearing, but he wore it far looser, and ditched the tie. A definite rock star type.
The party went as Hitomi would have expected it. Rather stiff and still unwelcoming. Occasionally, she laughed when Van was around, seeing as he turned out to be a very funny guy. Watching Van made her feel like a sheepish junior high student with a crush, but still, she kept on watching him. Once she even swore she saw him wink at her, making her cheeks tint pink.
"So anyway, I don't know what he was thinking..."
'How long can this woman go on?' Hitomi thought to herself, politely feigning interest in the conversation she was caught up in. She supressed her yawn and wondered how the rest of these people were listening so intently to this woman's babbling.
She put up with it for a few minutes, through all the boring ramblings and bad jokes, until she just prayed to be hit by lightning or something.
"So, how's that new job coming? With your raise and all?" A couple of men were trying to switch subjects.
"It's alright, besides all the damn tax raises."
"Oh, I know. I swear the government is trying to steal us blind."
She sparked a slight interest in this conversation. At least there was some oppourtunity for the duscussion to harbor intelligence.
"Yes but didn't the plan go that the new tax raise would got to benefit good causes?" She put her two cents in the conversation.
"Come again?"
"The mayor says he plans to put a great deal of the new tax money to pressing issues such as homelesness and domestic abuse. The increase is really a benefit for all of us. Our children will be able to get more school funding and such."
The men both gave rather hollow stares and continued talking amongst themselves.
'Hitomi-chan no baka. There you go with that mouth of yours again. Just keep it shut for once!' she excused herself from the group, practically unnoticed, and got herself a glass of champagne.
"Things like that really don't matter around here, do they?" She muttered to herself, sitting at an empty table.
*How do you feel-*
*About God and religion?*
*Are you*
*Good people*
*Bad people*
*Guess-it-dosen't-matter people?*
Sipping her drink, she tried to remain pleasant, hoping the alchohol would help it along a bit. Then, along came who else but Sir Allen and a new big-shot to meet?
"Hitomi, this is Mr. Dryden, he's the presiden't of this record label."
"Oh, yes I've heard so much about you." Hitomi said, shaking his hand.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm very pleased with how your new album's been doing. I'm sure you're very proud."
"Yes, yes I am. I'm rather shocked actually. I didn't think I would make it this far."
"Nonsense. You're a very talented performer. We're very proud to have you with us."
'So why don't you just take your picture with me and get the publicity stunt over with?'
"Thank you, sir. It's an honor to be here."
'Liar.'
"I'm so sorry. If I may, this is my fiancee, Millerna." Dryden introduced Hitomi to the hot blonde on his arm.
'Well, what a lovely ornament you have there,'
"Pleased to meet you."
"No, the pleasure's all mine." Millerna smiled, shaking Hitomi's hand, "You know, I have a niece who just loves your music. She would die if she heard I had met you."
'No shit, why don't you just buy me at the store and give me to her for Christmas?' Hitomi choked back her thoughts. They seemed to be turning far too nasty. Perhaps the champagne was a bad idea.
"Well it's great to hear that I have so many fans."
"I know a great deal of people who would just love to meet you. Perhaps you would care to come attend a party of ours sometime soon?"
*Your place, my place*
*Make her bring that famous face*
*You got some, You want some*
*You wanna let me give you some*
'No way in hell am I going to be a show piece for some rich guy's party!'
"That might work out. But you know, I do have a busy schedule what with the tour and all..."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure we can work something out."
'Shit.'
"Well, we have to go. It was nice meeting you,"
"You too."
"We'll be seeing you around, I suppose,"
"Goodbye!"
Dryden and his vanity item left to mingle some more, and Hitomi sunk back into her chair, idly swirling the contents of her glass.
"Does this mean I have to go to social events with these people?"
"Honestly, Hitomi. You do it all the time. This time shouldn't be any different."
"It could just be one time too many," she said before finally downing the last of the warm champagne.
"Fine. If you can get me drunk enough to agree some night, I'll go." Allen chuckled and left Hitomi alone to her thoughts.
"Did you know that Kanzaki Hitomi is here tonight?"
"Well that's certainly something new."
Great. People were talking about her from only a few feet away. Apparently they never even checked to see if she was still there.
"Yes, she is rather popular nowadays."
"Well, amongst the teens I can understand. Most kids these days couldn't tell good music if it hit them in the face."
'Ouch.'
"Well, I'd agree, it certainly isn't my cup of tea. But, if the company wants to continue manufacturing these fake pop-stars, then they can go right ahead."
"Of course. Anything to make money is good for them."
'That's all I am to them, aren't I?'
*We know your music*
*But of course we'd never buy it*
*It's too fake, man*
*Right, man*
*(We don't give a fucking damn!)*
She set down her champagne glass and got up to find the door as quickly as possible. Some air would be really good.
'God, Hitomi, don't cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these people.' She clenched her fist to fight back the tears.
Outside the door, she swiftly sat on the cold steps. She didn't care about getting her dress dirty; she just needed to be alone. She sobbed and moaned, her makeup starting to run.
"Just what I needed," she moped, wiping her eye with one finger.
"You can use my sleeve if you want. It's black anyway, so nobody will tell the difference."
"Van. What are you doing out here?" she sniffed, looking up.
"I need a breather from all that hot air." He said, extending his arm so she could wipe her eyes.
"I thought you were having a good time in there." She blotted her tears and let him have his arm back.
"Well, I had you fooled then." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky, "I mean, I like being with some people, but in general, humans are semi-retarded." Hitomi made a short laugh at this observation.
"I don't suppose it's that, so much as they choose not to see things."
Van nodded and looked back at Hitomi.
"I heard what they were saying about you." He said, nonchalantly.
"Yeah, that I'm a hopeless musician. That I'm nothing but a product. My songs mean nothing."
"Bullshit." He said, unhesitantly, without even averting his gaze, "I saw you play. Hell, I played with you. I learned your songs by heart, and I know. They touch people, Hitomi."
Hitomi remained silent, her hands on her knees.
"It's a sick sick game," she finally said, never breaking her stare at the concrete steps, "It's a game nobody can win, but you can survive it by shutting up."
A long silence followed, until Van spoke,
"Even though I wish it wasn't, I guess that's all true. I just don't see why it had to wind up like this. Your life ends up as a crazy freak show. A three ring circus."
"Yep. A spectator sport. A game you can't win..."
*Let me hear you play it smart, girl*
*Win the game, love*
*Give them what they want*
*What they wanna see, and you could be a big star*
*You could go far,*
*Make a landmark...*
"Well, I'm glad I finally met somebody smart enough to get the truth about this crazy mess." Van folded his hands behind his head.
"So am I." Hitomi smiled.
"Hitomi!" Allen's voice.
"Not again," She pressed her finger along her eyelid to wipe away any of the evidence that she had been crying,
"Hai?"
"They're taking a picture for the magazine. We need you now."
She picked herself up from her seated position, and turned to Van,
"I have to go. Will I see you again?"
"I might hang around with you guys a while longer." He shrugged.
"Then I'll look forward to meeting you backstage."
She hurried up the stairs back inside the ball room to rejoin the group. She was ready to play the game once more at least.
*What have you been reading, you smart girl?*
*Win the game, love*
*Give them what they want*
*What they wanna see*
*You could be a big star*
* You could go far*
*Make a landmark*
*Make a... shitload*
"Guess who?" A pair of hands covered Hitomi's eyes. She laughed playfully, and tried to squirm away.
"Van!"
"Can't get anything past you, now can I?" He removed his hands and spun around her to look her in the eye.
"I missed you!" She jumped forward and hugged him, almost knocking him down in the process.
"Whoa. You'd think I've been gone for years or something." He swayed to balance himself and lightly hugged her back.
"It gets boring around here without you." She slung her arm around his shoulder and walked with him down the hallway.
"So how have you been?" She asked, her eyes beaming.
"I've been faring pretty well. I think I may have finally hooked up with a band."
"That's great! I know how long you've been waiting for a chance like this." She ear to ear looking into his face, which she would have been content doing all day long.
She had been rather shocked when Van told her that he'd never played with a band for more than three weeks. He was very good at music, and not only with the drums, but he could really tear up an electric guitar. He still got by just making backup roles with other bands; enough to pay the rent.
"Yeah. I think they really liked me. It's just a small garage band from Okoyama, but they're really good. Likely to make it far."
Hitomi nodded and sat down on the sofa that was in the lounge, picking up a bottle of water.
"So, what about you? How is the tour going?" Van asked.
"Same old stuff. I'm not complaining, though. I'm really getting used to it all."
"Did you ask Allen about that charity thing you were planning?"
Immediately a downtrodden look came upon her face.
"He- he said people weren't interested in that kind of stuff. That if I wanted publicity, I should marry an actor or something like that instead."
"Who said anything about publicity?"
"That's what I said. I just wanted to make that shelter for runaways like I always dreamed of."
"Well, it's your money, isn't it?"
"Yeah... I guess. So-?"
"So forget about Allen, and go do it. I really think you're too passive in these things, Hitomi."
"But..."
"But nothing. You need to stand up for yourself. I know you, Hitomi, and you aren't the kind of pushover that you seem to act like sometimes. You just need confidence."
"That's easy for you to say. You don't have a P.R to worry about."
"Do you really want to be a puppet behind your P.R? No. You're strong. You have nerves of steel. You can do what you want. And screw what anyone else wants to say."
"I guess." She said, a bit of hope illuminationg her face.
"And if you really want publicity, we could get married for 30 days and let the tabloids just feed off it." He said this last remark in playful sarcasm, and Hitomi giggled, blushing just slightly.
"Or better, yet: marry Allen. Think of the headlines that one will make; 'Kanzaki Marries Manager'!"
"Sure, like that'll ever happen!" She laughed out, splashing Van with her water bottle.
"Hey, no fair!" He yelled, jumping back, "I'm defenseless!"
"Yeah, well you asked for it." She said, proceeding to dump more water on him.
'That's so strange, about that marriage comment. I know he was joking, but still... he never thought of me as more than just a friend before...'
Van reached into the cooler and pulled out a can of Coke, which he began shaking, with a devilish grin on his face.
"You wouldn't dare," She gasped, backing away.
"Oh, yes I would," He advanced toward her, his finger set threateningly on the pull tab.
"If you do, I'll-"
Fsssshhhhht!!!
The bubbly foam sprayed all over her, and on Van as well, making Hitomi screech with laughter.
"You- You bastard!" She yelled, quickly grabbing for another can, shaking it in her slippery hand. Van quickly turned on his heel to run.
"Oh, no you don't!" She called, "I'm gonna make you pay for that one!" As he dashed for the door, she jumped right ahead of him and slammed it shut.
"I'm not letting you get away that easily." She pinned him against the wall, smiling mischieviously.
Fsssshhht!!!
Yet another soda bomb was unleashed, this time on Van's head, slicking down his mop of hair, satisfyingly enough for Hitomi, at least.
Van seemed like he would begin to hyperventilate from all his laughter, as he leaned against the wall and sunk back, the contageous giggles spreading to Hitomi as he pulled her down.
Their hilarity attack continued for the next few minutes, as they reduced themslves to babbling idiots with the chuckles that kept coming. Finally, they were able to reach some sort of coherent phrases.
"Y- you look terrible!" Hitomi managed between gasps.
"I don't think you should be talking." Van said, giving her a shove.
"You're paying for the dry cleaning."
"What? You started it with your little water attack."
"But you- provoked me."
"Did not. You committed the crime out of cold blood."
"Well, cold blood or not, we're all sticky now." She said, starting to lick foam off her hand jokingly.
"Hey, not a bad idea." Van remarked, and copied her, licking his own arm.
"Ha ha! You are so wierd, Van."
In response, he quickly licked her cheek, cleaning off a fleck of foam.
"Mmmm, bubbly fresh!" He commented. She quickly looked at him in shock.
'Did he really-... Maybe he was just being playful. I mean, he couldn't really, could he?' Hitomi thought. There was only one way to find out.
"I think you have some there." She pointed to a spot on his face.
"Where?" He looked downward.
"Right, there." She leaned forward and kissed him tentatively. To her surprise he didn't shy away or stop her, but in fact, he seemed to be kissing her back.
Gently, she pulled away, smiling at him contently. Of course, as with all great things, this moment couldn't last.
"Hitomi?" Allen quickly opened the door and walked in, "Hitomi, you need to do that interview with the teen magazine in a half an hour." He took a second to look at her,
"You're a mess. what happened?" He then looked at Van, and of course, figured a few things out by himself.
"You should get yourself cleaned up," Van said, "I'll pick up in here." He winked and got up.
As Hitomi cleaned up and got ready for the interview, her thoughts dwelled on Van. She had only known him for six months and yet felt she grew up with him.
Most importantly, she knew what she learned from him. He gave her strength to say what she needed to, without caring what others thought. No matter what the world said; or what they attacked about her, she was going to stay steadfast.
*And the world spins by with everybody moanin'*
*Pissin' and bitchin'*
*And everyone is shittin'-*
*On their friends*
*On their love*
*On their oaths*
*On their honor*
*On their graves*
*On their mouths*
*And their words say nothin'*
"Allen," She said, clicking open her cell phone and smirking with a newfound confidence, "I'm going to be making a donation."
*******
~A/N: So, how did you like that? Man, this was intended to be pure angst, but look at all that fluff! Somehow, I am twistedly split between my angst and my fluff. Darn it. Anyways, whatever you feel about it, please click there on that review button and tell me.
~Whether it's a long thorough review, a short one-liner, or an incoherent "Booga!", just submit it there. (Although the third option is not quite so favored). Ciao, and Ja ne!
~If you like my songfics, and you like Evanescence, then you may look forward to my up and coming angst fics for Rurouni Kenshin.
Now Clicky on the button!